It has been more than 16 years since I last raced a Grand Prix bike of any kind, and more than 10 years since I last threw a leg over any type of motorcycle, yet I found myself trying on my old race leathers the other night, (I looked like a Condom full of peanuts), and after getting the zipper done up...... whew....

In walked the wife. After the laughter died...... she asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was thinking of buying a Historic Race bike to go out and have a little bit of fun on.....

Her response....... "You Bloody Old Fool, don't you remember the crash that finished your racing the last time....... look at you...... you look silly standing there in your little leather suit". she was right.... I did look bloody silly. Time to buy a new set of leathers....... thanks for the idea dear.

Little does she know...... Actually I'm sure she does know, she is not stupid my lady wife, that I have saved the money to either buy a late 60s to early 70s 2 Stroke race bike.

The Race car goes up for sale in the next few weeks.

I know I am not the only one. Looking back through recent Australian Historic Racing results, I was not terribly suprised to see a number of names belonging to people that I raced GP Bikes against, (truth be known, I raced behind them most of the time), in the ARRCs back in the days of the old Shell Oil Series, and then the Shell Advance Series back in the 1980s and 1990s.

Is this something that happens to all old racers? Is it just my Mid Life Crisis kicking in. My body might be 47, but my brain still feels 21. Hmmmm, in retrospect that may be a handicap.

So if the worst happens and you finish up in a box early saves 'dribbling' yourself to death in the 'Abidawee Rest Home' for the terminally incontinent.

When I went back and did a bit of racing in the 90s (1990s not my 90s YET ) the 'Good Lady' warned me that if I did at last finish my spine off completely that the wheel chair and its' contents would soon be taking a final trip down the embankment of the local motorway.

Look on the bright side, however, a little classic racing or parading and you've probably more chance of finishing the liver off than anything else.

So when do we expect you over in NZ for the Pukekohe Classic Festival in Feb, or the Barry Sheene challenge in October for the Parade/Regularity ( also known as Prune Parades -- think about it ) events ??

At 47 you are still a young man!
As Russell says Laurie Turnbull is no teenager but he is "young" compared to some I know.
I have 2 mates still racing, one at 75 and one at 81.
If you feel like doing it, just do it.
Each year you get a bit older and it all becomes a little harder until one day
it has all become too hard.
I know.

I'd kill to be 47 again!! I'll be 67 in a few of months. Its been a long time since I was on the roads or track. But I found land speed racing fills the void. Straight line. Doesn't require any skill (which is good as I have very little) and only has seven meetings a year. Better than sitting in front of the tv listening to your arteries harden.

I used to dream about being 47 ! Go and have a great time. Myself and a few friends take some classic bikes to France once a year for a classic track day plus the 1000 Bikes and a bit of CRMC and BHR parading and love every minute of it. Just do it before you get told you never will again.

I never rode anything more powerful than a Honda C90 back in the day, a friend of mine has a two stroke 50 cc NSU that only needs a carb and a bit of tidying up, I'm seriously tempted to take it off his hands for a laugh

Re my previous post, I've just sent off an email to the organisers of the Bikers Classics meeting at Spa asking for the details and paperwork for an entry for 2013. I've been to the meeting for the past 4 years as a spectator and to be able to go around the Spa circuit on a race bike would be the ultimate buzz for me!

Many years ago I worked in Belgium for BP and a workmate lent me his FZR600 one Sunday and I spent a full day riding around the old road circuit, how those guys did it at those speeds in the day riding siezy strokers on skinny wooden tyres I'll never know but full marks to them, big balls indeed.

Interesting to note men...... The Missus has hidden my leathers....... she is now monitoring my internet access as well...... I'll just have to lookk for a bike on the work computer..heh, heh, heh.......

Funnily enough I dug my old Lewis shellsport leathers out from the loft 6 months ago, left em out in the sun to soften up a bit well I got the zip about a 1/3rd of the way up, before I nearly asphixiated myself, oh well will need to aquire a slightly more generous set as I'm planning a few classic track days on these in the near future roll on 2013

Funnily enough I dug my old Lewis shellsport leathers out from the loft 6 months ago, left em out in the sun to soften up a bit well I got the zip about a 1/3rd of the way up, before I nearly asphixiated myself, oh well will need to aquire a slightly more generous set as I'm planning a few classic track days on these in the near future roll on 2013

Your pics have turned me Kawasaki Green with envy.........

Still looking for the right bike..........

T250 Hustler, Ds7 250' something like that. Even, or should that be especially...... A T500 Titan.

T250 Hustler, Ds7 250' something like that. Even, or should that be especially...... A T500 Titan.

Here's a couple of bikes I restored several years ago. The DS7 I took to the IOM to see the '87 Manx. Both nice bikes but I liked the extra that the 350 gave you. The YR5 is still about and only 15 miles from where I live. The owner keeps it in very nice condition.

Nice...... Add some rear sets, chambers, clip ons, a fairing and a race seat, (not one of those little Yamaha ones), a racing fuel tank, some sticky rubber......... And perhaps just a little port work, and it would be exactly the kind of bike I am looking for. These things are getting thin on the ground here.

Nice...... Add some rear sets, chambers, clip ons, a fairing and a race seat, (not one of those little Yamaha ones), a racing fuel tank, some sticky rubber......... And perhaps just a little port work, and it would be exactly the kind of bike I am looking for. These things are getting thin on the ground here.

Still, I will keep looking till I find exactly what I want.

Going to look at a T500 based bike this weekend. I have been assured that it is ready to race, and is wickedly quick........ I think we have all heard that before........

How hard isit to find what I am looking for. Nearly a year later, and no closer to the track. Unfortunately for me I am off on a deployment for the next 8 months or so. Still the money the Army will pay me should help me buy something good.

I am getting too old to be a soldier........but hopefully not too old to be a bike racer......

Re my previous post, I've just sent off an email to the organisers of the Bikers Classics meeting at Spa asking for the details and paperwork for an entry for 2013. I've been to the meeting for the past 4 years as a spectator and to be able to go around the Spa circuit on a race bike would be the ultimate buzz for me!

Drat ! But good to hear you're still keen, that's a wicked weekend by all accounts. A mate of mine who's an Emirates pilot has been a couple of times, he was having a ball winging along back towards Blanchimont on a TZ350 thinking he was going ok when Caros Lavado came by under his elbow going around 20 mph quicker, wakey-wakey !

Sheeney used to make his seat higher when recovering from knee injuries, that may help...

Drat ! But good to hear you're still keen, that's a wicked weekend by all accounts. A mate of mine who's an Emirates pilot has been a couple of times, he was having a ball winging along back towards Blanchimont on a TZ350 thinking he was going ok when Caros Lavado came by under his elbow going around 20 mph quicker, wakey-wakey !

Sheeney used to make his seat higher when recovering from knee injuries, that may help...

Thanks Glenn, I'm tall enough to stand some extra seat padding but still no good, further surgery is in the wind and I'm also having some ultrasonic treatment on the advice of a friend who's a professional footballer. I'm hoping...

Hmmmmmm. I'm sniffing around a 1971 Benelli 2c racer at the moment. It is a lot pricey, but although it is a 125, it has a standard 250 engine with a rebuilt crank that comes with it. I'm a little to large to race 125s any more......

Otherwise I may have to reluctantly come back from the dark side and race a 4 stroke......ugh....

Well..... I can't buy what I want so I have started building a Forgotten Era 350cc bike based on a1974 Yamaha Rd350. I've also been training and I am now 8kgs lighter. I can fit in my leathers again. Plus my old passenger from back when I raced sidecars has been watching my progress. The bug has bitten him as well it seems. Now he wants us to get an outfit as well.

Well..... I have done it now........I have done a deal to buy a race bike off of one of the guys who used to absolutely kick my arse out on the track, Craig Trinder.

It is nothing like I was looking for, but will actually fit the bill nicely. It is a Historic Period 6 Yamaha FZR400RR SP. And for the first time since 1988 it's a 4 stroke, (not counting my sidecars though).

Good for you, mate. Turn-key racing, much better cutting laps on the track than kneeling on the pit garage floor cursing. And P6 is growing by the day. Except with HMRAV, where it's not being so keenly adopted...but it will eventually.

The chassis and engine are 1990..... No doubt, I have checked with Yamaha. The only issue at the moment is that it has modern looking fairings on it. I imagine that it would have to have period correct fairings before I even attempt to get a log book.

The engine is fresh, although it has not been run in yet, despite the fact that it was built 7 years ago. I'll have to go careful there. I'll have to have a look at the suspension as Craig Trinder is..... Ummm errrr lighter than me. I could take to to Hoey engineering here in Adelaide and get them to help me set up the suspension.

First I have to get the bike from the Gold Coast to Adelaide.

It seems to be immaculate, but dusty and a bit neglected. I can sort that out.

Got any buddies going to the historic nats at Lakeside, end of September ? Like the Ahern brothers ? They may be able to help with getting it back...

You know.... What a fantastic idea...... I may just send a couple of emails on Monday. Thanks for the idea, I never even thought of that.

I don't know too many people in the classic scene here, but I have been corresponding with Danny Ahern....... I may be able to defray his petrol,(or beer), costs a little bit for doing it for me. I know he has retired the TR3 now, so he may have a spare spot on his trailer.....

Well my bike it being picked up be Simon Cook at the historic Championships at Lakeside. Next weekend... Thanks heaps for the idea.....it is costing me half the price of a commercial transport company to get it here.

I have a high powered delivery team dropping the bike at Lakeside for me.. Craig and Steve Trinder, Stu Avant, and one of the Sayles brothers......

A pity I will be stuck in Port Augusta that weekend.

According to Craig Trinder, the bike just needs going through as it has not run for about 7 or 8 years.

I'll let you know how it goes.

My projected return to the track is planned for early next year. I will have to learn to race a 4 stroke after a life of racing 2 stroke GP BIKES. Perhaps I should buy a slipper clutch for it? LOL

Wow, exciting ! You must be in the groove to have dropped 7kg already John, and the season's all but over so plenty of time to get you and the bike ready for next year. Period 6 500 class has taken off, there were more than 20 of them at the historic nats including 3 or 4 FZR400s, you have made an excellent decision here and I'm sure will have a ball. Much better than playing round with temperamental older stuff. Get stuck in mate, might see you at Mallala for next year's nats.

I never thought, even in my ‘Wildest’ dreams that Oscar and I would have something in common.

Here I languish, possibly even in the cell once occupied by Irelands greatest author.

It all began with a small ad.

I had wanted to return to the track, to relive my youth racing bikes again.
I had the get up and go but not the fiscal means to achieve this, so I decided that I would, this time around, find some other mug to pay for my pleasure, thus the small ad.
‘Young, genuine but impecunious title contender requires sponsor to conquer the world’.
Slightly over stated, well a blatant lie, but never the less a faint heart never won fair maiden.

This lead to a meeting with a Mr Luigi Feccotti in a small and poorly lit café just off the Ballspond Road.

Mr Feccotti, his face half covered in a scarf introduced himself as a Nigerian business man, his accent, acquired I surmised from somewhere between Palermo, the East Lancs Road and Donegal, explained that he and his partners were looking for an investment opportunity outside their usual sphere of business, which upon my enquiry as to their ‘usual sphere of business’ Mr Fecotti declined to expand upon.

The lack of African lustre to his skin colour on the small amount of his face that I could observe did not disturb me although I had assumed that a Nigerian would not be quite as sallow of skin as was Mr Faccotti. However he appeared to be as keen of collaboration as I was.

I would receive, not by normal Royal Mail, but hand delivery a proposal, to my benefit, for the sponsorship I had craved for the coming season.
The letter duly arrived and upon its’ reading much to my surprise detailed a racing season that would see me cris-crossing much of Europe in search of greater success than I had ever envisaged.
My original plan had been to race a few times at Snetterton with the occasional foray as far a field as Brands Hatch and Lydden Hill. This proposal was more than I imagined but was too good an opportunity to pass over.

The letter ensured that the two bikes that were to be my pleasure for 2007 would arrive in Southampton docks from Columbia complete with 32 crates of spares, generous indeed was my only cognisant thought. The letter stipulated that the aforesaid crates of spares would be automatically forwarded to circuits on the continent of Europe where I would be racing.

The letter was unsigned.

The vast array of mechanics uniforms supplied in the deal would also accompany the crates of spare parts.

I would also not be incumbent with such formalities as entry forms or race itinerary all of which was predetermined and paid for up front. This seemed almost too good to be true!

There seemed to be many pre-season training sessions at Circuit Carole not far from Paris.

However each visit to the said circuit found it closed, but I was instructed by a man with, what I suspected to be an Eastern European accent that I was to return to the UK via Calais and to leave a crate of mechanics uniforms in the back of the race transporter next to the bikes and not to be too concerned that the lock on the back doors to the transporter had failed as the bikes and equipment were adequately insured and in secure parking. I missed the booked ferry due to my instructions being inaccurate concerning the sailing times. I stayed in a small hotel just outside the Sangette asylum centre, which suspiciously, considering this stay was an unplanned had a booking in my name for that night.

I slept like a log, which I put down to the effects of the pint of strange tasting lager I had consumed with my meal. I awoke with a hangover which I attributed to the lager and my abstinence during the past few months intensive fitness training.

I joined the ferry queue and eventually the ferry back to Dover,

Imagine my perplextion when I opened the transporter doors in Dover to discover 23 ‘race mechanics’ all dressed in the Team overalls.

Much to my great relief and amazement I was met in immigration by a man declaring himself as my ‘press officer’ a Mr Enrico Gorgonzola, who despite me having never laid eyes upon him in my life greeted me, in a somewhat strained West Midlands accent, like a long lost son declaring his adoration of my achievements, throwing a winners wreath around my neck whilst fighting off the clamouring press corps who had assembled to enjoy with me my recent ‘magnificent victory’.

I watched with incredulity as my ‘race team’ melted away in to the short term car park never to be seen again.

Something stank, and despite the shortcomings of the previous nights’ accommodation it wasn't my armpits.

Portimao on the Algarve was my next destination and for this long haul I had a co-driver. Wee Jimmy from Glasgow.

We arrived on time for the Chunnel night crossing to Paris and boarded a sleeping car to dream away the journey.

The next morning I noticed a change in Wee Jimmy the 5 foot 1 inch Cylde supporting Ginger haired Glaswegian. I might not be now or ever be in the future Sherlock Holmes or even Doctor Watson but the 6 foot 4 dreadlocked West Indian sitting next to me looked less like wee Jimmy from Glasgow than an elephant looks like a mouse.

I tried small talk, ‘how did Clyde fare against Dunfermline at the weekend’ I inquired, Wee Jimmy shot me a murderous sideways glance and as he turned up the volume on his MP3 player I thought I heard the strains of Bob Marley singing ‘I Made A Mistake’.

I felt something warm run down my trouser leg, it appeared that is wasn't just my confidence that was draining away.

Portamaio here we come.

Why we journeyed via Marseille, I have no idea why, but two of the crates of spares left the transporter not to return and ‘Wee Jimmy’ was now a Moroccan with a scouse accent.

At the overnight stop in central Spain I was aware that my hotel door was locked at around ten thirty, from the outside, however I had no inclination to investigate in case I bumped into ‘Wee Jimmy’.

On arrival I tried to sign on at race control at Portamaio but my entry was obviously late.

It was then I tried to claim asylum with a British Super Sport team, but despite my pleading they were under the impression that I was just trying to blag a ride home.

Sitting in the front of the transporter on my return was a man with more face scars than face, he was counting out Euros whilst at his feet reposed a small black case with traces of white powder around the spring clasps.

After ‘Scarface’ left I explained to ‘Wee Jimmy’ that there was a problem with my entry. He said nothing, donned his MP3 player headphones started the engine and began reversing the transporter out of the paddock and towards the gate.

We were stopped at the Spanish border into France and that was the last I saw of ‘Wee Jimmy’ as I was frogmarched off by the gendarmerie for questioning concerning people, drug and money smuggling.

Much as I protested my innocence I stood not one iota of a chance, my brief only spoke Basque and the judge appeared to have a pathological hatred of the English.

The only ‘good news’ was that after six months I would be allowed to serve the rest of my twenty year sentence in England closer to the family who had disowned me at the trial before selling their story to the Sun.

The front page story described me as an ‘evil Hells Angel hell bent on destroying civiisation’.

So here I rot in Reading Gaol, snout king of E-wing and respected by every low life murdering rapist thug that read, or in some cases had read to them, that front page of the Sun.

It only goes to confirm that there is 'No fool like an old fool'._________________